Ryker

by Schwehm, Joanne

  “I’m sorry.” Tears rolled down her sun-kissed cheeks.

  “Please don’t, Faith.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I thought you just didn’t want to be there because it was my party. Then I was mean to you.”

  I brushed her tears away. “You didn’t know. I never let anyone in. It’s fine, okay? Please don’t be sad.” I turned to Max and Tyf. She was crying too. “Thanks for coming with me, guys. It means a lot to me. You all mean a lot to me.”

  Max smacked me on my back, and we all headed for our cars.

  Being home was a relief. I had my best friend and my best girl by my side. Tyf was an added bonus.

  As I looked around my house at my friends, I felt as if my life finally meant something. I’d grown up thinking I was unloved by my own mother, and to know that she did love me meant everything to me. My eyes met Faith’s as she walked toward me. Well, almost everything.

  Five years later

  Some things never change. Never mind, that’s not entirely true. My eyes wander to the pictures proudly displayed on our walls. Pictures of our wedding have a place of honor above our stone fireplace. I smile when I look at the photos of our boys: James Maxwell and John Ryker.

  We got married on my twenty-second birthday, and we had twin boys almost three years ago. They’re our pride and joy. The day they were born was the happiest day of our lives. Seeing Ryker hold his sons without fear and watching him love them has made me happier than I’ve ever been.

  Clanging pulls me out of my stroll down memory lane, and I follow the sounds to the kitchen. All my boys—yes, Ryker is one of my boys—are sitting on the kitchen floor. I stop in the doorway and look at them. Johnny’s flouncy blond hair reminds me so much of his father’s, while James has my dark hair. Ryker is just as gorgeous as the day I met him. They have pots and pans between their legs, and they’re banging on them with spoons. Ryker has propped up some covers on our barbeque tongs to resemble cymbals, which I think he’s enjoying more than our kids.

  He catches my eye, and his loving smile appears. “Hey, Dude, I didn’t see you standing there.” Naturally, he gives me his obligatory wink after he says dude.

  I shake my head and roll my eyes. Ryker will never stop calling me dude, so I stopped asking him to. He even worked it into our wedding vows. “I, Ryker David Jeffries, take you, Faith Marie Dude Bishop, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” That made me gasp, and our family and friends laughed. To be honest, I like when he calls me that, but that’s my little secret.

  James and Johnny look up, and both boys spring up and run to me. They each pick a leg and hang on. I brace my hands on the doorframe so I won’t fall.

  “Guys, you’re going to make Mommy go boom.” Ryker scoops up James while I pick up Johnny.

  Johnny kisses my cheek and says, “Mommy, I’m tired.”

  That is my little guy. When he is tired, he wants to go to sleep. James, on the other hand, fights us. God forbid the child miss anything. Of course, his father doesn’t help. As I walk toward the stairs to go to Johnny’s room, Ryker tosses James in the air. If James didn’t have the most adorable giggle, I’d tell his father to stop. I look at Johnny thinking he’ll want the same thing, but he is out like a light. His head is on my shoulder, and his arms dangle.

  As I walk up the steps, I catch Ryker’s attention. All I do is smile and lick my lips. He nods and stops tossing our son around.

  “Looks like it’s naptime, little man.” Ryker blows a raspberry on James’s tummy, making him squirm and squeal.

  “Baby, you’re not helping the cause.” I laugh and go upstairs.

  The boys’ room is decorated in a rock-n-roll theme, of course. They have pillows shaped like guitars, two miniature drum sets, and the infamous picture of Bonham is on their wall. I lay Johnny down with a smile. Someday we’ll tell him he was named after his father’s favorite drummer. Leaning over, I kiss his cheek, and cover him with his blanket.

  Ryker walks in carrying James, who is fussing about not wanting to sleep. I cross my arms and raise my brows at my husband.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says. “I riled him up. I’ll get him down. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

  I saunter over as he is bent over James’s bed, attempting to lay him down. Ryker’s glance tells me he knows what I want, so I stay on course. My breasts press up against his back.

  “We have approximately one hour before Johnny wakes up,” I whisper. “I suggest you read James a book to calm him down. Meanwhile, I’ll be waiting for you… in our bed. Clock is ticking, handsome.” I kiss the spot behind his ear and then kiss James’s forehead.

  Before I leave the boys’ room, I look back to see Ryker grabbing a book off the dresser. He’d better hustle, and James had better cooperate. Getting two kids down at the same time is not an easy task, especially when their dad made “awake” time so much fun.

  I cross the hall to our bedroom, which is beautiful. We’d bought a new bed after we got married, and I decorated our room in soft, relaxing hues. But most of our time was spent on the tour bus, since Raging Urge played in various cities.

  They’d hired me as their accountant, so the twins and I traveled with the band. The boys are about to start pre-school though, so that is all going to end. Ryker doesn’t want to leave us to go on tour, so he decided to split the time with Michael. I am happy about that, but I still enjoy going to the local shows in my “I’m with the band” T-shirt.

  I strip and quickly change. I do my best to look sexy as I wait for him, but my black lace garter ensemble would go to waste if he didn’t hurry. I pair the outfit with sheer black thigh highs and the highest heels I have. I lay on the bed with my left arm above my head and my right hand strategically placed on the top of my panties. I bend one knee and pray I don’t look ridiculous.

  Only a few minutes pass before Ryker opens the door. He stands stock still as he takes in the sight of me. My excitement grows when he rips his shirt over his head. My juices start flowing at just the sight of him. I swear his muscles get more pronounced every day. We had started going to the gym together after the boys were born because of my stubborn pregnancy weight. I’d complained, but he didn’t seem to mind it. He always said he loved me for me.

  Before I know it, he is naked and next to the bed. My eyes follow his as they roam my body. My legs shift in an attempt to create friction, but it isn’t helping.

  The bed dips as he climbs in next to me. “You’re the most beautiful woman. Do you know how lucky I am?”

  My hand moves to his torso, and I trace each of his six ab muscles. “You’re the sexiest man in the world. People magazine should put you on their cover.”

  “We should both grace the cover as the sexiest couple.” His lips land on mine, and we envelope each other. His nimble fingers unclasp my bra, and his hand moves to my panties. “We need to get rid of these.”

  With ragged breaths, I say, “You do it.”

  “You’re killing me.” He straddles me and pulls my panties over my knees and down my calves. His hand runs down my leg before he lifts it so he can kiss me right behind my knee. He glances at my shoes. “They stay on.”

  He positions himself between my legs and runs his tongue along the top of my stocking. My hips move, and he grins.

  “Anxious, are we?”

  “I need you, Ryker.”

  One finger is all it takes to make me moan. He looks at his glistening finger and licks it. “You taste so good.”

  He is going to make me orgasm on the spot if he doesn’t get in me now! I wrap my legs around his back and pull him toward me. “Now, Ryker. Please get inside me now.”

  “Who am I to say no?”

  His muscular arms support his weight over me. As my hands move toward his ass, his eyes open.

  “I love you so much, Faith.” His pace quickens, and sweat beads on his brow.

  “I love you too.” As I tighten around him, I sigh.

  “Babe, I’m… I’m…” He poun
ds me a few more times, then spills into me. He lays on me with a smile. “Think we made our daughter?”

  I can’t do anything but smile back. “I hope so, and if we did, we’d better have made just one.”

  A little while later, there’s a knock on the door. “Mommy! Daddy!”

  Ryker and I look at each other and exhale. Johnny is done with his nap, which means James isn’t far behind.

  “Looks like our little man is up.” I get off the bed. “We better get him before he wakes James or thinks we left him.”

  We hurry to put ourselves together. Ryker is quicker than I am, though. I need to change. Once I am in the bathroom and Ryker is dressed, he opens the door.

  “Play drums, Daddy?”

  I come out in yoga pants and a T-shirt. “What did he say?”

  Ryker picks him up so they are face to face. “What do you want, little man?”

  “Play drums. I play Daddy’s drums.”

  My beautiful husband’s face lights up like the sky on the fourth of July. “You want to play my drums, little man?”

  Johnny nods wildly.

  Ryker kisses his cheek. “Well, then let’s go downstairs and play.”

  My baby waves at me. “Bye, Mommy.”

  Just like that, they are out the door.

  Having my boy in my arms is something I’d never expected. Shit, being married to Faith and having kids is unexpected.

  Johnny sits in my lap behind my drum set. His eyes widen as I hand him the sticks. “Daddy, you take one, and I take one. We play together.”

  Well, melt my fucking heart already. “You got it, pal.”

  I position his hand on the stick, and he smacks the drums. He’d discovered the cymbals last week, and that was fun—for about five minutes. With a stick in my left hand and one in his right, we try to make some sort of rhythm, but Johnny has his own beat he is drumming to. I still my stick and listened to him. Yes, he is only three, but my kid has skills.

  Johnny looks at me with a mischievous grin. “I do like Daddy. Watch.”

  He grabs the stick out of my hand and goes wild on the drums. I have to lean back for fear he will smack me in the face. The joy on his face makes me laugh. The kid loves it, and I love him.

  Faith and James are coming down the stairs. She is perfect. Everything about her is all a man could ask for, and I am that lucky man. Johnny stops playing when he sees his mommy.

  “Mommy! Look!” Johnny starts banging again.

  She waves, trying to get my attention. I still Johnny’s arms, which makes him whine.

  “Guess what, Johnny and Daddy? Uncle Max and Aunt Tyf are here.”

  Johnny can’t get off my lap fast enough. He tosses my sticks and runs up the stairs. He loves his godparents, and I can’t blame him—so do I. We follow him.

  “Uncle Max!” Johnny goes flying into Max’s arms.

  “How’s my little guy? You playing the guitar I bought you yet?”

  Johnny crosses his little arms and shakes his head. “Nope. I’m a drummer like Daddy and Bonnie.”

  Max’s chuckle reverberates through the room. He looks at me. “Bonnie?”

  “Shut up, dickhead. He means Bonham, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, Uncle Max. Shut up, dickhead.”

  My eyes instinctively close tight. I know what is coming.

  “Ryker!” Faith says. “How many times do I have to tell you not to talk like that in front of the boys?”

  Max gives me a crooked smile. “Better listen to your wife.”

  “Sorry, babe. Johnny, don’t tell Uncle Max to shut up.” I decide not to say “dickhead” again. And why bother correcting the kid when he is right?

  We set the boys in front of their blocks, which they love. Watching them create things out of little squares is cool. My boys are creative! Max, Tyf, and Faith sit on the couch, and I sit on the chair next to them.

  “So what brings you guys by?” I ask. “Just come to torment my son about the guitar? Maybe James will like it, but I wouldn’t count on it. That kid has the coordination of a drummer.” I laugh.

  Max shakes his head. He grabs Tyf’s left hand and kisses her wedding band. They got married three months before we did, and they are still swooning in love. Tyf smiles.

  Max looks at us after winking at his wife. “Well, maybe we’ll have the guitarist.”

  Faith jumps up and squeals, making me cover my ears. Then Tyf follows her lead. They are hugging and spinning around. What the hell did I just miss?

  Tyf and Faith have tears streaming down their cheeks. Faith’s hand goes to her chest, and she is half laughing and half crying. I look to Max for guidance, but he is staring at them like a love-sick fool. Then I look at my boys, and their eyebrows are lowered in confusion. Finally, I’m not alone! Granted, I am looking for support from two three-year-olds, but still.

  Faith hugs me. “Oh my God, isn’t it great, honey?”

  I release her, bend so we are eye to eye, smirk, and say, “Dude, I have no clue what just happened or what you’re talking about.”

  She smacks my arm. “Seriously? You don’t know why we’re all happy?”

  I instinctively rub the spot she hit. “Ow! And no, I have no clue.”

  Johnny chimes in, “Uh oh, Mommy hit Daddy.”

  Naturally James follows suit. “Daddy, did Mommy give you a boo-boo?”

  I turn to Faith. Her face has paled.

  I lean in and whisper, “You shouldn’t hit Daddy.”

  “Daddy’s fine, boys. He was just joking around.” Faith smirks.

  Max stands next to Tyf, looking at me as if I have ten heads. His smile grows as though he has some huge secret he can’t wait to divulge. “We’re going to have a baby.”

  “Oh! That’s awesome, man! Congrats!” I hug Tyf and then Max. I excuse myself to the kitchen, and I grab beers for me and Max and lemonades for the ladies.

  As I walk back in and look at my family, my heart swells. I hand out the drinks and hold up mine. “To Max and Tyf. May your child be healthy and happy, and may he or she love to play the drums.”

  Max rolls his eyes, the girls laugh, and we all say, “Cheers.”

  We order dinner and spend the evening enjoying each other’s company. I love it. After Max and Tyf leave, Faith takes the boys upstairs for their bath. After crawling around the floor putting the blocks away, I sit back on my heels and smile.

  Faith and I have been through a lot, some of it good and some bad. Most of the bad was my fault, but thankfully she’d accepted my many apologies, and we’ve moved forward. But all of the good, all of the amazing parts of my life—that is all her.

  Through the years we’ve known each other, she has given me more than I ever could’ve imagined. She gives me friendship, and gave me the most amazing children. She taught me how to love and, more importantly, how to forgive. She gave me faith. Not only do I have faith in myself, but I have faith in us. But the best thing she has given me is herself, and really, what more could a guy ask for?

  There are so many people in my life that have supported me, encouraged me, and quite frankly, put up with me while writing Ryker that I pray I don’t forget anyone.

  First and foremost, my family, especially my husband, Dave, and my sons, Nick and Zack. Without you, this would not have been possible. You guys are beyond fantastic. To say that I’m blessed would be an understatement. I love you all so much, and you mean more to me than anything else in the world!

  My beta readers, thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to read for me. Your feedback and comments were incredibly helpful and insightful.

  Tyf Snyder…what can I say, you know how much I love ya. Thank you for everything.

  My PA Ashley Blakenship, thank you for everything you have done. I truly appreciate it.

  My friends who always have my back, thank you for supporting me. Without all of you, I know I wouldn’t be where I am today. You all do so much, and I don’t even think you realize it. Just by telling me you enjoy
my writing and my characters makes me happy. Some of you even put up with me when I want to go listen to bands so I can stare at the drummer to see how he moves… Okay, some of you like that too, but nonetheless, you were there with me, and I love you for it.

  To my “Rockin’ Street Team,” thank you for “pimping” me out and, more importantly, for your encouraging words. You’re the best, and I’m so glad you’re on my side!

  Every once in a while, you meet someone that you connect with and thankfully, I’ve met Lisa Paul. I’m not sure how our friendship started, but I’m so happy it did. I treasure our daily chats, critique sessions, and numerous messages. Thank you for bouncing ideas back and forth and making me laugh. I don’t think I’ll ever think of Miso Soup the same way again (that’s an inside joke, and I can guarantee you Lisa is laughing as she reads this). You’re honest and truly a wonderful person.

  To all the bloggers, thank you for everything you do. Your support and kindness means the world to me. I wish I could list all of you, but that would add several more pages! Thank you for all the time you spend supporting authors and reading our stories. You take time out of your personal lives, and I appreciate it more than you know.

  My “Top Secret” girls, you know who you are. Thank you for listening, chatting, and for your honesty; that seems to be rare these days, and I’m glad I have you all in my corner. I will always be there for you too.

  A HUGE ROCKIN’ thank you to KC Brooks at Northern South Entertainment. You were with me from the beginning of Ryker back in March 2013. Although I needed to change some “moves” (I hope mine prove to be fun for you – haha), I had a blast talking to you about this book. We’ve been friends for a very long time, and I’m so glad that our friendship continues to grow. I never would have thought that our worlds would come together this way, but I’m so glad they have.

  Thank you to the band Blanco Diablo. I think you guys rock (pun intended), and I hope that we get to see each other soon.

  Special thanks to my editor, Cassie Cox. This isn’t our first rodeo together, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. You’re truly amazing, and I consider myself very lucky having you for an editor.